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“Nah, we’re good,” Jeff says, still holding Tyson by the scruff of the neck. “Find your own toys.”
“I got my own toys,” Ash says, and Audrey appears next to him. He draws her close. “Much better than yours.”
“Yeah…” Jeff gapes at Audrey. She’s a hot redhead, and although she’s not my type, not the one I want, she’s damn pretty.
“Close your mouth.” Tyson pushes Jeff off him. “And stop drooling on me.”
“I want,” Jeff mutters.
“Get your own toys,” Ash replies, giving my team a dangerous grin, and departs with Audrey.
I stare at the door, a strange yearning inside me. It’s bittersweet and oddly familiar. Tessa. I want her to show up at the door, give me her sweet smile and come to me, lie in my arms and let me hold her.
I need to talk to her. Tell her how much she means to me. Zane’s right. It’s about time I made it clear to her I’m not changing my mind again. That I’m here for her, if she wants me.
“Thanks for stopping by, guys.” I lie back on my pillows with a sigh. I don’t have to pretend I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. “I think I’ll catch some shuteye now, if you all don’t mind.”
“Sure, man.” They get up from the floor, looking a little sheepish. “You need to rest. Give us a call when you feel better, and we can all have a party.”
I feel a little guilty for making them leave, but I need to do this, and if I wait any longer, I will fall asleep and have to wait even longer.
What if Tessa is fed up with waiting for me to tell her how I feel? I told her I think about her a lot, sure, and that I think she’s beautiful, but that’s not enough. Not after I treated her like a stranger for years.
She deserves more. She deserves complete honesty. She makes me want to be a better man, and I should start right now.
“Need anything?” Ash asks, looking inside, Audrey wrapped around him like a starfish. It’s nice to see them together, to see how much they need and enjoy each other.
That’s what I want with Tessa.
“Hey, Ash.” I clench my hands by my sides. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry. I was wrong.” About who Ash is, what Audrey needed. What I needed, and Tessa… God. “Sorry I doubted you when Audrey came back to town. That I didn’t help you. Didn’t support you.”
Silence spreads in the room. I don’t know what I expect from Ash at this point—to call me names? To get up and go? To say my apology is not accepted—not adequate?
What I don’t expect him to do is grin. It’s a bit crooked, and self-depreciative, and rueful.
“You were trying to protect Audrey,” he says. “Can’t be angry about that, even if it was to protect her from me. Her safety is my first priority, too, and I was a hot mess back then.”
Audrey squeezes his arm, and some of the weight that has been dragging me down all this time lifts a fraction.
“Is Tessa here?” I ask. “Can I talk to her?”
“I heard the door a minute ago. She just arrived.” Asher gives me a measured look. “I’ll let her know.”
***
Keeping awake is a struggle. It’s quiet, with the guys gone from the room, and my lids are growing heavy. I fight it, clenching my hands and digging my blunt nails into my palms. The slight pain rouses me for a moment, but then the heaviness in my body grows, and every blink lasts longer than the one before.
Images flash before me, trees and lakes, houses and tall buildings. I’m walking down an empty avenue, the cars abandoned and rusty, vultures perched on their tops. They’re staring at me as I pass, my boots thumping in the quiet. This is my doing. This destruction. This devastation.
I am the city. I am the emptiness. The loneliness is what I brought on myself. I know this, and I accept it. I suffer from it, and I regret it. Awareness is my punishment.
What will you do now?
I find myself in a conference room talking with my mom. We sit on either end of the long table, and I’m trying to convince her not to go, offering arguments and presenting as evidence the skeleton of my father, arranged on the table between us. She doesn’t say anything to me. She reaches out, touches my father’s bones. They’re black, as if charred, and smooth like polished onyx.
“It wasn’t me who killed him,” she finally says, her voice low and sad. “It’s himself. It’s not love that killed him. It’s his own fear.”
She stands up and leaves the room. No sooner is she out, all the windows implode, and I’m tipping backward, my arms spreading wide. Dropping. Falling. Plunging into the void.
